Recognize many of the tumultuous feelings that come in the first weeks [of grief].
After eerie, non-feeling numbness comes a constant yearning, and there are sharp, aching pangs of grief.
There is the wish to honor and to idealize the person who has gone.
There is a sense of amputation, and a void that shows itself in every detail of life, especially the chair, the table-setting and the bed.
There are 'if onlys', the feeling that the world has gone upside-down, and a determination never to forget.
There can be a rage and bitterness you never expected, and a strong feeling of guilt, both of which sour the purer aspects of your grief.
There are tentative efforts to find meaning, and perhaps a longing to hide yourself away.
There is some cynicism, and there are isolated points of hope.
There is dreadful turmoil of mind, and quiet appreciation.
There is the feeling that you no longer want to live beyond tomorrow.
There is also the firm determination that the grief shall itself be a tribute.
-- from All in the End is Harvest: An anthology for those who grieve, edited by Agnes Whitake